From the Heart
by In Medias Res
Summary: When Jane returned to her former self, she brought something else with her and it will stop at nothing to ensure a Second Xenocide.
1. Then They'd Be Sorry

Disclaimer: Ender's story, the Ender Quartet and any characters, places, or ideas native to it  
  
belong to Orson Scott Card.  
  
A/N: My story is a continuation from "Children of the Mind", the last book of the Ender Quartet  
  
by Orson Scott Card. Four books of philosophical theories, ethical questions, and extensive  
  
character relationships have passed before my story. I'm not one to repeat things that have been  
  
already said, but I felt it was necessary to write a brief summary of what's happened in  
  
"Children of the Mind" so that those new to the quartet are not totally lost. Anyway, on with the  
  
show.  
  
--Prologue--  
  
Jane. He, she, it...lives among the philotic connections, the lines that always were and that will  
  
always will be. Among these shifting, changing lines that mold into and interconnect all things is  
  
where Jane resides. The ansibles, the only human method of instantaneous communication  
  
across the vast distances of space, are at her whim. Using them and the immense volumes of  
  
knowledge stored in the computers of the Hundred Worlds, Jane is a force to be reckoned with.  
  
She could even perform faster-than-light travel by moving across the philotic lines to the  
  
Outside, a space of philotes, and then back Inside to a destination. That is, until the ansibles  
  
were shut down. The philotic connections between ansibles was slowly shut down by the all-  
  
powerful Starways Congress. Jane was dying.  
  
Elsewhere, Ender the Xenocide, the Speaker for the Dead, Andrew Wiggin was also dying. On  
  
one of his trips to the Outside, his aiua, his inner self or soul, fashioned two children out of the  
  
philotes. His sister, Valentine, at a younger age...compassionate, virtuous, perfect. And his  
  
brother, Peter...heartless, sadistic, manipulative. The two sides of him that made up his life  
  
force. With two young bodies, Ender was able to perform tasks that his aging body could no  
  
longer perform. Unfortunately, spreading himself so thin has taken a toll on his body.  
  
Out in space, a fleet equipped with the Little Doctor, a weapon capable of destroying a planet,  
  
precedented only by the Xenocide's slaughter of the bugger homeworld, approached the colony  
  
of Lusitania. Co-existing there were the humans, the Hive Queen and her workers, the  
  
pequininos, and a life-destroying virus known as the descolada. Interaction between these  
  
species forced the Starways Congress into the decision that could cost the lives of four sentient  
  
species.  
  
And then Jane died. Her aiua fled into the pequenino Mother Trees and finally made a home in  
  
the tiny body of young Val. Ender's body failed, but his aiua fled into Peter's body. With the aid  
  
of her friends on the planet Pacifica, small networks of ansibles and computers were restored,  
  
and Jane was granted some of her previous abilities. She was back amongst the philotes...she had finally come home.  
  
But something else came back with her.   
  
Andrew Wiggin is dead. Young Val's body belongs to Jane and is married to Miro, step-son to  
  
Ender. Peter, inhabited by Ender's aiua, is married to Si Wang Mu, former servant to Qing-jao  
  
on the planet Path. Novinha, Ender's widow still resides with the religious group Children of the  
  
Mind. Her living children, with the exception of Miro, remain on Lusitania to deal with the  
  
current problem of the descolada's home planet. Old Valentine remains on Lusitania with her  
  
family. The Hive Queen continues to dwell within her caverns on Lusitania with the pequeninos.  
  
--Then They'd Be Sorry--  
  
"Something is being hidden from us. The events surrounding the Lusitania Fleet are proof  
  
enough of that. The Starways Congress shut down ansible connections, an unprecedented action.  
  
The Fleet, whose objective was the obliteration of the rogue colony and of the baneful,  
  
destructive parasite that threatened our very existence, is turned around while the colony still  
  
stands unopposed. Corruption is run rampant amongst the Congress. They put the lives of few  
  
before the lives of all sentient life. Can we keep living like this?"  
  
-Web entry, signed "Locke"  
  
Old Valentine let out a small sigh, and leaned back into her chair.  
  
"Something wrong?" Jakt asked from across the bedroom. He slid up behind her and laid his  
  
hands tenderly on her shoulders. Valentine gestured to the report hovering above her terminal.  
  
After a few minutes, Jakt let out a low whistle.  
  
"They're just trying to stir up trouble."  
  
"No, Jakt, it something more. Look." The report scrolled down to the bottom where the  
  
document was signed.  
  
"Locke?" It took a few moments before it clicked. "I still don't see the worry. Peter...the real  
  
Peter is long dead. Don't people still sign under 'Demosthenes'?"  
  
"Of course, but..." Jakt began to massage her shoulders.  
  
"When Peter had me writing papers as Demosthenes when we were younger, I was to take a  
  
similar approach...harsh, cunning, powerful. He taught me how to write like him, while I taught  
  
him to be more like me. This Locke...this is how Demosthenes was supposed to be."  
  
"Young Peter?"  
  
"I thought about that, but he is Ender too. Ender spent his life bearing the burdens of others and  
  
saving them. Why would he, in his new life, bring down so much trouble on everyone?"  
  
A familiar face appeared over the terminal.  
  
"Good morning, Jane"  
  
"From the look of things, I can't see how this a good morning, Jakt. Read this" Another  
  
document appeared; a scathing report from 'Thucydides'. Jane read aloud, "...has released  
  
documents written by one Admiral Lands that the descolada had been neutralized. Starways  
  
Congress was on the verge of a SECOND Xenocide, destroying sentient species without even  
  
trying to communicate with them. I can't see how Congress differs from a varelse (A/N: Varelse  
  
is a species who cannot be communicated with and is a threat to sentient life) species...."  
  
"Are Locke and Thucydides the same author, Jane?"  
  
"Yes. Whoever it is tried to hide their tracks well. Human analysts would be turned in circles...."  
  
Jakt stared at the papers hovering above the terminal.  
  
"They're trying to win both sides of the argument." Valentine nodded absent-mindedly.  
  
"I can't pinpoint the source but I think that I can block any more of their ideas from reaching the  
  
public." Valentine stared at the papers, reading them over again. Someone was indeed playing  
  
both sides. These ideas couldn't be allowed to gain ground on the public's minds.  
  
"I will write my own report in the meantime..." She stood up and quickly left the room leaving  
  
Jakt behind.  
  
"I've lost her again, haven't I? Ender is gone but she still carries his burdens..."  
  
"You haven't lost her. She's losing herself."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"So what do we know about these people?" Grego was watching messages of cellular  
  
information flash passed the screen.  
  
"Nothing." Quara answered. "Not a god damned thing." She typed at her terminal, piecing  
  
together the cell parts. The descoladores, the creators of the virus, were trying to communicate  
  
with them.  
  
"If they tried to drug you, can't we consider them hostile?" Ela turned toward him.  
  
"Not until we know for sure..."  
  
"This communication is useless, they just keep making cells that either will put us into a stupor  
  
or will eat as like the descolada. They call that "hostile" in many circles."  
  
"Not in this one. Now shut up and make yourself useful."  
  
"Listen, Quara, I'm the physicist, not a xenobiologist..."  
  
"Then start studying their probes! Let's find out how advanced they've gotten." Quara huffed.  
  
She was done with this conversation.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Quara recorded her findings into the terminal. The descoladores, as far as she could tell,  
  
had no other means of communicating, except, perhaps, biologically. They sent cell information  
  
that, when put together, could then be ingested and th effects of the cell would follow as their  
  
message. So far, all they've gotten were intoxicants, unidentified cells, or bits and pieces of  
  
descolada viruses. She did come to the conclusion that they were sentient, because they could  
  
communicate, but we just couldn't understand it yet. She had suggested "borrowing" the Little  
  
Doctor in case the descoladore really did turn hostile, but she had been giving hell for that one  
  
and she would keep her mouth shut and then they'd be sorry. Quara choked back a small sob.  
  
'Then they'd be sorry.'  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Grego, amongst his analsysis on the descoladore probes and planet, he recorded his  
  
thoughts on the descoladores themselves. There was no real use for a physicist in this situation,  
  
he figured, so he would make his opinion matter, maybe even print it on the webs. Just upon the  
  
basis that they had tried to use toxic cells to attack his family with, was justification enough for  
  
his claim that they were evil. Add to that, the fact that they're little virus had the power to alter  
  
entire ecosystems and they had heartlessly allowed it to spread. 'We're supposed to wait while  
  
they hold the knife to our throats?'  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: And the plot thickens...or at least it will. This was just an introduction and a reminder of where all our main characters are. But many more surprises are still to come... 


	2. Something Wicked

--Something Wicked...--  
  
(Out of the frying pan, into the fire.)  
  
(What?)  
  
(Nothing. It is a human metaphor.)  
  
(Explain.)  
  
(We all thought we were out of danger when the Fleet was turned away.)  
  
(We aren't?)  
  
(A human died. The Starways Congress is troubled, and...)  
  
(Humans die all the time. They live very short lives compared to us.)  
  
(Yes, but this was an important human.)  
  
(Oh? Who deemed this human's life more important than the other's?)  
  
(The Congress, I suppose. And everyone else just accepted it.)  
  
(Yes, we see this often in human history. Why do they enslave themselves like that?)  
  
(To free themselves from choices? They don't have to think much if they elect someone over  
  
themselves, right? They long to be freed of life.)  
  
(Then they should just die.)  
  
(But they're afraid of death.)  
  
(We have been alive for generations on end, queen to queen, and never have we seen a race who  
  
wants to be both alive and dead. Humans are quite the contradictory species.)  
  
(They seem to sense their indecision on some level. They're always looking for that kernel of  
  
truth.)  
  
(Ender said that once...)  
  
(You miss him, don't you?)  
  
(Hive Queens do not miss anything, not even our own workers.)  
  
(Yes, but how many Hive Queens before you had a friend?)  
  
(...none...)  
  
(See? You do miss him.)  
  
(Things fall apart...)  
  
(True, but what do you do when they can't be put together again?)  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Peter kissed Wang-Mu. Or rather, Ender kissed Wang-Mu. He still wasn't sure who he was. 'A  
  
new life, with a woman I love.' He smiled at the thought. Wang-Mu smiled back and everything  
  
seemed perfect. They hadn't had much of a chance to smile recently. Peter got up from the short  
  
mat Wang-Mu favored as a bed and he drew open the curtains. Pacifica. Not their choice, at least  
  
not for now, but they had friends here, and the danger still wasn't over yet. Wang Mu beckoned  
  
for Peter to come back to bed. The idea was enticing, but his terminal lit and Jane appeared  
  
wearing a mischievous smile. In mock concern, she averted her eyes.  
  
"Oh, am I interrupting something?"  
  
"You know you are..." She laughed and her face morphed into that of Han Fei-tzu, Wang-Mu's  
  
mentor. She immediately covered herself with the blanket.  
  
"Jane! Enough!" Peter glared at her.  
  
"Oh fine, but you're taking all the fun out of this. So...how was it?" She asked slyly. Peter gave  
  
up and folded his arms, seething at Jane.  
  
"Ok, I did have a reason for coming to you this early. Miro and I need to discuss some things  
  
with you and Wang-Mu." Miro's face appeared above the terminal, near Jane's and greeted Peter  
  
and Wang-Mu.  
  
"Alright, we have some...issues." Miro's handsome face was lined with stress. 'This is how he  
  
spends his honeymoon?' Peter mused silently.  
  
"It seems we always have issues now." Wang-Mu replied quietly, standing from the mat and  
  
moving behind Peter.  
  
"The ansible connections aren't being restored."   
  
"Well, I am getting back most of my memories, but I still sense many connections left closed."  
  
"But, did Admiral Lands not submit his report?" Miro nodded at Wang-Mu's question.  
  
"Yes, but that's just it. Admiral Lands is dead." (A/N: Lands, after some convincing from Peter,  
  
Wang-Mu, and Jane, turned the Lusitania Fleet around and reported to Congress that the  
  
situation was under control.) Peter leaned in closer to the terminal and spoke quietly, and  
  
infuriated.  
  
"The Congress silenced him?"  
  
"No, he suffocated himself. His superiors found him in his quarter's in front of his terminal."  
  
Peter stormed to a chair and sat down.  
  
"Not a homicide?"  
  
"No. He died over five days ago. The scene has been investigated many times already. No note,  
  
no warnings. He was just...hanging..." Jane stopped her explanation when Wang-Mu gasped in  
  
horror. Peter motioned for her to sit with him. Holding his wife, he thought everything over.  
  
"Jane, can you send us to there? Maybe there's something we could find."  
  
"It might take some time. Congress had stopped the restoration of the ansibles after Land's  
  
death. Now they're in session and won't take any communications and the station that Land's  
  
was residing in is quarantined."  
  
"Has that ever stopped you?" She smiled wryly and disappeared from the terminal leaving Miro.  
  
"Miro, how is your family?"  
  
"To tell you the truth, Wang-Mu, I haven't spoken to them directly since we were married. Just  
  
messages here and there. They're still working out the descoladores problem, and they know  
  
about Land's death." Peter shook his head confusedly.  
  
"Is this a serious problem?" Miro paused.  
  
"Jane isn't in danger of dying."  
  
"Then let's not focus too much attention on it."  
  
"Peter, Lands was a witness to faster-than-light travel, to Jane, to many things he could have  
  
testified to..."  
  
"And Congress has dropped many of their projects to consider Lands' report and his death."  
  
Wang-Mu added.  
  
"Yes, yes, I know. But if they were to find out about the descoladores...we could have another  
  
Xenocide looming over us." That silenced everyone. 'Could Congress really be so arrogant?  
  
How many lessons do they need?' thought Wang-Mu. Peter watched as she left his arms and  
  
began to prepare breakfast.  
  
"Miro, make sure the work on the descoladores is kept secret." Miro nodded an disappeared  
  
from the terminal.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Quara finished her entry. Her family, or what was left of it, had decided it was time to rest and  
  
Jane returned them to Lusitania. She wanted to stay on the ship, told them she wanted to finish.  
  
She really wanted to get away from them. No one understood her, and when she tried to explain,  
  
she was yelled at by that cyber-bitch, Jane. 'Who is she to question what I do? She's had that  
  
body for a few months and already she's rooted herself into our family.' She turned to a terminal  
  
in which the latest message from the descoladores hovered. After some trial-and-error, she  
  
thought she recognized the cell. She typed her password in and accessed the computer's storage.  
  
The terminal flickered, shut off, and then turned back on. Confused, Quara entered her password  
  
again only to have the same result. She drummed her fingers on the desk for a minute, then went  
  
on the webs and searched for the cell. A handful of documents poured on the screen. She started  
  
to engross herself in the research. The cell was indeed human. 'A good sign. But what effect  
  
does it have?' She skimmed through more documents, and, finding nothing, continued her  
  
search.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Bishop Gregorio entered Mayor Vieira's office. Coming from a Mass, he was still dressed in his  
  
bishop robe, causing Vieira to glance only once before returning to his work.  
  
"Vieira, did you know that another ship was taken today?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Mayor!" Gregorio slammed his fists down on the mayor's desk. Vieira leaned back in shock  
  
and was about to reprimand the bishop, but Gregorio cut in.  
  
"Another ship was taken today. I had a family in hysterics at Mass this morning!"  
  
"What do you mean 'taken'?"  
  
"You really have no idea what I'm talking about. Don't you have any interest in your colony?"  
  
"Do I tell you how to run your damned Church?" Bishop Gregorio reddened in anger, his mouth  
  
opened and closed, trying to form words at the mayor's heresy. The new Mayor and Bishop did  
  
not enjoy each other's company, not that any of the previous mayors or bishops had.  
  
'Government and religion, they just don't mix' Vieira thought. He relaxed outwardly, realizing  
  
his sudden edge. He paused a few minutes to let the bishop regain his composure.  
  
"I'm sorry about my outburst, but I'm in the middle of dealing with some issues with the  
  
Congress."  
  
"The Congress still bothers us?"  
  
"Admiral Lands, the one piloting the Fleet, was found hanging in his office. They seem to think  
  
it was suicide und the influence of some of our colonists, or homicide by the same."  
  
"Who could do something so horrible?"  
  
"Lands' X.O. Causo described Peter Wiggins." The bishop flinched.   
  
"The little devil is up to some tricks, I think."  
  
"That "little devil" has a bit of Ender in him."  
  
"The Xenocide and the atheistic Speaker for the Dead."  
  
"There's just no getting through to you is there?"  
  
"Merely stating my opinion."  
  
"Anyways, with Lands dead, the reports of our cured status are being held as "inconclusive".  
  
Besides being interrogated by Congress officials, I'm trying to keep the work the xenobiologists  
  
are researching secret. If Congress got a whiff of that, they'd have my head on a platter."  
  
"Sorry, but I'll have to add to your list. Two freight ships carrying supplies, one commercial ship  
  
housing two families, and one small station outside the orbit of the planet Pacifica have all  
  
been...attacked." The mayor looked incredulous.  
  
"Who? What did they want?"  
  
"Congress won't say anything except that the attack came from the inside. No force was used.  
  
They think the oxygen was cut off or the food was poisoned, perhaps." The mayor fell back into  
  
his chair, unblinking.  
  
"It's all coming apart at the seams..."  
  
"May God have mercy on us all."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Next chapter, an investigation and a special guest. 


	3. Silly

Disclaimer: Ender's story, the Ender Quartet and any characters, places, or ideas native to it belong to Orson Scott Card.  
  
A/N: I can't remember Novinha's maiden name for the life of me, so I'm using 'Wiggin' where needed.  
  
--Silly--  
  
"The descolada is a threat to all sentient life. Attempts to communicate with it have resulted in failure. The descoladore, creators of the murderous cells, have responded with threats or incomprehensible messages. In my opinion, they need to be eradicated. I will do the deed myself if I must. The descolada cannot be allowed to produce and the descoladore must pay for the reckless xenocides! I hope that the Starways Congress, in all its wisdom, will see that war is the only option. We cannot wait around while the descoladore hold a knife to our throats...."  
  
-Web entry signed, "Gregorio Wiggin"  
  
"Grego! You'd better explain yourself!" Quara was on a rampage.  
  
"What's your problem now?" Grego was surprised by Quara's ferocity. She had these outbursts often, but now she was furious. Ela had followed Quara in, disturbed by the noise. Quara leapt for Grego's throat, knocking him off his chair. Ela grabbed Quara's wrists as her sister struggled back.  
  
"Quara...Quara...Quara, enough!" Ela let go of Quara, who was breathing heavily, her eyes fixed on Grego.  
  
"How dare you..."  
  
"What? What did I do?" Quara grabbed some papers off a nearby desk and threw them at Grego.  
  
"You printed your reports on the web! This work is supposed to be a secret! You're a traitor!" Quara stormed out, leaving Ela to deal with Grego. Grego gathered up the papers and read them.  
  
"How..." Ela snatched the papers from Grego and read them.  
  
"Grego...how could you?" 'Good question', Grego thought. Grego said nothing. Ela shook her head sadly and left Grego on the floor. He hadn't said anything in his defense. This was exactly what he wanted. He didn't know how his report got out on the webs. He didn't post them there; he wanted to, but never did. But here they were. His family was furious with him, but he got what he wanted.  
  
To be heard.  
  
Finally, some action would be taken against the descolada. Finally, we will see some results. Grego glanced to his terminal. A message was waiting.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Quara was nearly in tears. 'I don't BELIEVE him. He knew how important this work was to us and he has the nerve to make it public?! This is the end. If the Congress read his report, they'd want an investigation. Ela made it clear that we weren't supposed to voice our opinions, especially not on the web. Too much trouble...' Thoughts raced through her head for a few minutes until she had a pounding headache. 'Great. What more could happen?' She signed on to the web, in hopes of continuing her research of the new human cell the descoladores sent her. And then she had an idea.   
  
She would write her own report. She would counter Grego's argument with equal ferocity. She began to type. "Rash actions will only lead to another Xenocide. Haven't we had enough violence...?"  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"You are wise beyond your years, Grego." The message read.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"A fan of your work, a supporter of your cause."  
  
"My work? I haven't done anything."  
  
"I saw your report on the descolada. I whole-heartedly agree."  
  
"It was just one paper. I didn't..." He reconsidered telling the stranger that he hadn't meant to post. He'd rather have the credit. The stranger cut him off.  
  
"You are capable of great things. You could mass together supporters and demand the destruction of the descoladore."  
  
"No." He remembered it. The taste of power. The taste of togetherness. Then they turned on him and burned down the pequenino forest. He wouldn't do it again.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It's a dangerous road you're asking me to travel. And I don't know who you are."  
  
"Silly boy, I'm asking you to do what's right. Besides, you're sister already looks to oppose you."  
  
"What? I think I've had enough of this conversation."  
  
"Look." A paper appeared on his terminal. Grego read with horror the accusations made against the Congress, the scathing analysis of his own paper, and the call for a new government. It was signed by Quara.  
  
"I don't believe this."  
  
"You see now?"  
  
"Yes. I write a harmless paper and she's tearing me apart."  
  
"You're family is against you."  
  
"Ela?"  
  
"Look." Another paper was sent his way. Ela's was not as vicious as Quara's, but a line had been highlighted by the stranger. It read: "The paper signed as "Grego" is a fake. It is a poorly organized attempt to stir trouble and should be disregarded as nothing more than a prank."  
  
"They're against me."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I have some ideas."  
  
"Good, you can put them to some use, I hope?"  
  
"Can you help me?"  
  
"I've been waiting for you to ask me that."  
  
"I have some ideas I'd like you to spread around....Wait, where do you live?"  
  
"Oh, I get around."  
  
"Good. There are some ideas I'd like you to pass around to your friends, colleagues. Get the word out. I think our argument is a strong one."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"James will be fine, my friend." James signed off. Grego sat staring at his terminal, lost in thought of anger and wonder and power...and revenge.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"Silly girl, I'm asking you to do what's right. Besides, you're brother already looks to oppose you." After she had finished her report, someone had immediately sent her a message. This "fan of her cause" first tried flattery with her, praising her accomplishments in her field. She was in too much of a bad mood to fall for the stranger's sweet talk. But still...  
  
"That twisted bastard. What's he done now?"  
  
"Look." A paper appeared over Quara's terminal. Quar nearly yelled in fury. She wanted to strangle her brother. Before her was Grego's latest entries to the web. They were an attack on her previous paper. They belittled her, her work, and everything she had to say.  
  
"I can't believe him!"  
  
"You see now?"  
  
"Of course! He thinks he's the only scientist in the family! All I did was write my findings like he did an he attacks me!"  
  
"Your family is against you."  
  
"No, Ela is on my side."  
  
"Look." The stranger showed her another report. Ela was attacking her, too. Quara was shocked, so much so that she couldn't even feel anger A line had been highlighted by the stranger. It read: "The paper signed as "Quara" is a fake. It is a poorly organized attempt to stir trouble and should be disregarded as nothing more than a prank."  
  
"They're against me."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'll show them.... Once I finish my reports on the descolada messages, I'll teach them not to push me around."  
  
"Good. You can put those reports to good use, I hope?"  
  
"Can you help me?"  
  
"I've been waiting for you to ask me that."  
  
"When I finish, could you help send my message to...hold on, where do you live?"  
  
"Oh, I get around."  
  
"Good. I think if enough people support us we can convince the Congress to change their ways."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"James will be fine, dear." James signed off. Quara sat staring at her terminal, lost in thought of anger and wonder and power...and revenge.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"Ready?" Peter asked Wang-Mu.  
  
"Always." Since the news of Lands' death had reached them, they prepared their own investigation of the scene. Jane had informed them that she would be able to bring them to Lands' station while Congress was in session and most security would be guarding them. Now, Peter and Wang-Mu were ready to board their "ship", which was nothing more than a box. It was a simple enough form for Jane to transport safely to the Outside and back Inside again.   
  
Wang-Mu stepped inside and sat down followed by Peter. They held each other's hands and waited in silence for a few minutes when Jane's voice crackled to life in Peter's ear.  
  
"Ready, guys?" Peter looked into Wang-Mu's eyes, smiled and said, "Yes, we're ready."  
  
"Please keep your hands and arms inside the..."  
  
"Jane..."  
  
"Sorry, I couldn't resist." They barely noticed they were traveling through the Outside, among the all the philotes. The ship gave no sense of motion and the lack of windows gave no clue to the strands they were traveling through. In front of Wang-Mu and Peter sat a new person. Wang-Mu let out a short gasp. This had only happened once before when Ender and Miro had gone to the Outside. Miro had abandoned his crippled body for a new copy and Ender formed Young Valentine and Peter. It was happening again.  
  
~~~~~~~~ 


	4. James Will Be Fine

Disclaimer: Ender's story, the Ender Quartet and any characters, places, or ideas native to it belong to Orson Scott Card.  
  
--James Will Be Fine--  
  
"They are an aberration. I do not understand how He can allow their presence to taint us. I have no doubt they are baptized. Mark my words, the devils will surely be the end of us. Others, like that pig-headed mayor, seek to give them a second chance. But doesn't he realize? There are no second chances. Evil can never change it ways and is forever damned! The path to the light is a treacherous one, but I am prepared to follow it. Here I am..."  
  
-Bishops Diary  
  
"No, you're wrong. Big surprise." The figure sat back into the shadows, his face hidden in the darkness. His voice dripped with venom.  
  
"You did not create me with your thoughts."  
  
"But this is the Outside.... You are made from..." Wang-mu began.  
  
"Quiet, little girl. I wasn't talking to you."  
  
"Don't you dare speak to my wife like that." Peter was furious now. He burned with the need to hurt this stranger.  
  
"Don't try it, Peter. You'll be dead before you can move." Peter gave a small laugh. He thought it an empty threat, but the stranger spoke with such confidence and malice.  
  
"What do you want with us?"  
  
"You did not create me with your thoughts."  
  
"I...I didn't ask you..."  
  
"I know what you asked, but you're still thinking that you created me. Don't think that."  
  
"Then what are you?"  
  
"Well, I don't like to brag..."  
  
"Then don't." The stranger paused. The tension in the ship shifted. Wang-mu started coughing.  
  
"Are you alright?" Peter asked, protectively holding Wang-mu in his arms. It was instinctive to protect her, it was right. Wang-mu grimaced, coughed again, and nodded slowly.  
  
"Love. The natural human response to loneliness. With the cunning and ruthlessness your visage represents, I thought you would be above such...primal feelings, Hegemon."  
  
"I'm not..."  
  
"...the Hegemon. I know. A more 'compassionate, more 'caring' soul inhabits your shell. It's a shame. We could have been great together."  
  
"You're a few thousand years too late."  
  
"Oh, no, wrong again. I'm right on time." His last phrase was said with an audible smile. In the darkness, Peter could feel the stranger staring at him and smiling wickedly. The air in the ship tightened. "I want you to go home," he said.  
  
"Home?" Wang-mu asked. Peter glanced at her and noticed she was pale. The stranger hesitated.  
  
"Yes...dear...I want you to tell Jane to move this ship back to your home on Pacifica."  
  
"How do you know all that?!" Wang-mu yelled. She started coughing again.  
  
"Let's not spoil the fun just yet!" Peter, too, was finding it difficult to breathe.  
  
"We're going whether...whether or not..." Peter was confused. What was happening to the oxygen in the room?  
  
"Whether or not I try to stop you? Too late."  
  
"You're..."  
  
"Tampering with the air? Very good!" Wang-mu fell away from Peter and lay on the floor motionless. Sweating and gasping for air, he tried to pull himself toward the stranger.  
  
"I'm actually kind of disappointed that such a brilliant mind needs to be eliminated, but I just can't take that risk." Peter lunged for the shadowed stranger and caught hold of his collar. Peter pulled him into the light.   
  
He had no face. It had fallen away in a cloud of dust, leaving a gaping hole. The rest of his body flaked and decayed, falling away like sand. Their was a faint laughter, and Peter felt fresh air brush across his face.  
  
"PETER!" Jane's voice blared in his skull. He shot up from his position on the floor and moved to Wang-mu who was awakening. Caressing her forehead, he waited quietly until her breathing became even.  
  
"PETER!"  
  
"Jane."  
  
"What the hell was going on in there?"  
  
"Someone else was with us."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
"I'm not sure. He had NO FACE."  
  
"And did he do something to the air?"  
  
"Not sure about that either. The oxygen in the room started to disappear the moment he appeared."  
  
"Did you hear the conversation?"  
  
"Every word. But you couldn't hear me?"  
  
"No. Was it our mystery guest?"  
  
"Everything's a possibility." Wang-mu began to stir.  
  
"I want to go home..." Peter smiled weakly and ran his fingers through her hair.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
No one was around. The station seemed completely empty except for the distant footsteps that could be heard every so often. Jane had directed Peter through the hallways and around possible guards. Most were guarding the Congress session, others were at lunch. The few stil standing guard were easily distracted by false alarms Jane set off. When they reached Lands' room, it wouldn't open without a code and Jane set to work. It took longer than expected, even Jane voiced her aggravation, but the code was found and the door opened.  
  
The room was immaculate. The bed was properly made, the desk was polished and the few items on top were in their place. The floor had been recently vacuumed and shoes were placed side by side under the bed. The closet door was slightly ajar, revealing a simple wardrobe, washed and ironed. In fact, the open door was the only thing amiss in the room. Except the noose. The body had been removed but the noose still hung from the ceiling fan. Wang-mu hesitated for a moment, regained her composure and followed Peter into the room. After about twenty minutes of searching, they found nothing. Unless the room had been cleaned after Lands' death, there was nothing out of the ordinary in the room.  
  
"The terminal. Check the terminal." Jane said. Peter moved to the dormant computer on Lands' desk. Before he could do anymore, the computer hummed to life. Startled, Peter leaned forward at the blank screen. A single cursor blinked on the hovering page. The terminal had signed on to the webs. The cursor moved.  
  
"Hello Peter." it read. Peter looked at Wang-mu who was equally disturbed.  
  
"Who is this?" he typed in response.  
  
"James will be fine."  
  
"How do you know my name?"  
  
"We've met before."  
  
"When?"  
  
"I'm actually very hurt that you've forgotten me already. We just met on your ship."  
  
"You! Have you been talking with Lands?"  
  
"I'm afraid Lands is dead. Haven't you heard?" James was toying with them. Peter didn't like it at all. He began to type back a furious response when Wang-mu placed her hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Don't let him know you're angry." Peter let out a deep breath. He deleted his response and bean to type a new one when he noticed James had written again.  
  
"Don't let me know you're angry, Peter." Peter stepped back from the terminal. He looked around for a hidden camera or a small microphone or something. But they had checked the room themselves. James wrote again.  
  
"Something the matter?"  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"I get around."  
  
"WHERE ARE YOU?!" Peter typed in caps to get his message across. A moment later, he felt foolish to doing so.  
  
"Temper, Peter. You should listen to your wife more often."  
  
"Did you kill Lands?"  
  
"He was a casualty of war."  
  
"Jane, trace this conversation." Peter said aloud.  
  
"On it." James sent another message.  
  
"Your 'Jane' won't be able to find me. I take pride in my ability to disappear."  
  
"You're not human."  
  
"No, I am a kinetically redundant, bio-mechanical demonoid." (A/N: Kudos to whoever knows where the reference is from.) Peter stared at the screen.  
  
"Uh, Jane?" Peter spoke.  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"Humans. No sense of humor." James typed. "Lands' report was far too dangerous to my cause."  
  
"So you hanged him..."  
  
"Oh no. He did that to himself."  
  
"I find it hard to believe you had nothing to do with it."  
  
"Well, I'd like to take some of the credit. We had a little chat on the webs before he did the deed."  
  
"No. You're a liar. You couldn't have convinced him to kill himself..."  
  
"But I did." There was a short silence. Peter was not sure whether to believe him. James typed again.  
  
"He understood a very important concept. I'm coming. Humanity is leaving. I will finish Lands' work."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because that is what I'm designed to do. This conversation will be terminated." A five second timer appeared in the upper left hand corner.  
  
5...  
  
4...  
  
Peter grabbed Wang-mu's arm and rushed for the door.  
  
~~~~~~~~ 


	5. Instigate

Disclaimer: Ender's story, the Ender Quartet and any characters, places, or ideas native to it belong to Orson Scott Card  
  
--Instigate--  
  
(Something the matter?)  
  
(Yes, but I can't determine what.)  
  
(Speak.)  
  
(This morning, I wanted to confer with the Father Trees. It seems a war of words is going on between Grego and Quara.)  
  
(Go on.)  
  
(I couldn't.)  
  
(Were they not listening?)  
  
(No, I could hear bits of their voices, but nothing would come through clear. It was another hour before we could communicate.)  
  
(We sense it too. Our workers rebelled earlier today.)  
  
(All of them?)  
  
(No, but it was more than usual. A faction. There seemed to be a leader.)  
  
(And...?)  
  
(And that cannot be possible. I am all of the Hive Queens and we are all of the workers. We act as one body. For a worker to defy us deliberately is unthinkable.)  
  
(And this happened today?)  
  
(Indeed. Once in a while, a worker may detach itself from us, but without our control it moves in a frenzy. This morning their was an organized attack.)  
  
(Is everything alright?)  
  
(We have more than enough workers to sustain our losses, but we are greatly disturbed by this recent turn of events.)  
  
(I agree. I think we should look into it.)  
  
(What you are suggesting will take a great deal of our energies.)  
  
(Are you up to the task, old friend?)  
  
(Yes, my friend. I am up to it.)  
  
Miro hadn't said a word in hours. Young Val was worried by his violent mood. Some time ago, Miro had signed on to the webs and found them sprawling with articles on the descolada. The information these works contained were supposed to be classified information. Immediately, Miro had contacted Jane and discovered that his own brother and sister had resorted to childish rivalries, and in the process, revealed their closely guarded secret. Human dealings directly with alien species sparked the fires for a Second Xenocide. Now that that xenocide was avoided, it would not help the situation if Congress knew the dealings were still going on. Val and Miro had hoped that Lands' report would show the Congress that there is more to be studied and to hold off on war, but now he was dead.  
  
'What else could go wrong?' Val thought and immediately regretted it. Miro had been sitting at the terminal in the xenobiology lab, poring over Quara and Grego's documents. Suddenly, Jane's face appeared in place of the works.  
  
"Miro, we've got trouble. If somebody named 'James' tries to talk to you, sign off imediately."  
  
And then she was gone. Miro shared a worried glance with Val. Peter and Wang-mu had gone to Lands' station to investigate the murder. Now something was wrong. No sooner had Jane disappeared, a message appeared on the screen.  
  
"By order of the Starways Congress, this laboratory is official evidence in the trial against Quara and Gregorio. An investigation will begin in under one hour and all persons are expected to vacate the area or be subject to penalty of law."  
  
The terminal shut off. The lights followed.  
  
"Damn." Miro's first word in hours.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Near the fringes of the Hundred Worlds, a small planet had sat, revolving quietly with few evolved species. Lately, a new species inhabited the planet and flourished in the virgin wilderness. Their community advanced and expanded. Then this day began. The day of the Starways Congress investigation, the day Peter and Wang-mu searched Lands' room, the day things fell apart. Flames rained down on the quiet communities. Men, women, and children, perished in the hellfire. The sun would set on the smoldering stumps and charred forests and a war would begin, one that would threaten all of humanity.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
3...  
  
2...  
  
The door was locked.  
  
1...  
  
0.  
  
Nothing happened. Peter looked around. Nothing had changed. He moved back to the terminal and typed.  
  
"Planning to suffocate us again?"  
  
"No, I feared my work was getting stale. I considered sounding an alarm throughout the station, alerting the guards to your presence and let them take it from there. But that wouldn't have been as much fun as what I thought of next." The door opened. "Goodbye, Peter."   
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Bishop Gregorio stormed into the empty Church. Everything was going wrong. Eight more ships were attacked in the passed three days, 2 of them passenger ships, the others Fleet Bombers. The families at mass were nearly inconsolable. And the other folks, those who didn't lose anybody were losing interest in him. He nearly wanted to scream with rage when he heard a few parishioners gossiping outside his Church.  
  
"The bishop's sermons are rather dry today, don't you think?"  
  
"Sure, even he can see the dark times we're in. Families keep disappearing and...."  
  
"And there is no way Congress has forgotten us."  
  
"I thought Peter had..."  
  
"Oh, no dear, didn't you hear?"  
  
And so it went. They filled each other in on rumors about Admiral Lands, suspicions on Grego and Quara, and other nonsense. But then...  
  
"To be honest, I think perhaps the Bishop is losing his faith."  
  
-WHAT!? How can they be so insolent to think that I have lost faith. I have dedicated my life to the Creator. I have spent hours on end in prayer and abstinence and reconciliation in the hopes that I am even fit to speak His name and they dare judge the purity of my faith!?- He moved about the Church in a frenzy, touching random objects, moving hymn books, cleaning pews, but not really focusing on any one task as he continued to rage in his thoughts.  
  
-Andrew Wiggins. The Xenocide. HE is responsible for the slaughter of an ENTIRE species and he has the gall to waltz into Lusitania, into this Church and spread his humanistic, Godless psycho-babble to our parishioners! And those faithless jackals flock to him as if he were some golden idol! I have led this Church faithfully for years and they turn on me as soon as the darkness settles over us. They're all against me, Lord. Forgive them, for they know not what they do...-  
  
In his tirade, Bishop Gregorio stole a glance at the altar and saw the Bible. With a small glimmer in his eyes, he walked to it and began to read. He was always inspired by the passages. Moses always rallied feelings of righteousness within him. -To have the Lord speak to me and choose me to spread his word...-   
  
Next to the Bible lay the Bishop's Diary. All the Bishops of Lusitania recorded their teachings in it. Bishop Gregorio found useful interpretations of Bible passages, sermons, questions and answers, and so on. He most enjoyed reading Bishop Velasquez' entries. He was a powerful speaker, a devote follower of Christ, and most importantly he despised the Speaker of the Dead. Of course, he had never met Ender, neither had Bishop Gregorio, but this Bishop did know Ender's current incarnations. -Non baptized, unnatural, spawns of Ender. They are the root of our problems...but everyone loves them.-  
  
-Nearly everyone.-  
  
Bishop Gregorio hesitated. The thought came to him so quickly, he wasn't sure it was his. Perhaps the Lord had finally seen fit to make him His messenger. Bishop Gregorio shut the Bible, grabbed the Diary, and quickly rushed to his room in the rectory. He had meditating to do. If the Lord wanted his assistance, he would need to be clear of mind and spirit. He would sit and revel in the Lord's infinite wonder, almighty power, and His righteous revenge....  
  
~~~~~~~~~ 


	6. Cheers

Disclaimer: Ender's story, the Ender Quartet and any characters, places, or ideas native to it belong to Orson Scott Card  
  
--Cheers--  
  
(How is life on your new planet, brother?)  
  
(Going well. We have a healthy community and thick forests. The little ones a flourishing.)  
  
(This is good to hear. Many things have been going wrong lately.)  
  
(Yes, I've heard. Has the Hive Queen picked up on anything yet?)  
  
(She is still among the philotes. I have not heard anything.)  
  
(... ... ...)  
  
(Brother?)  
  
(I am sorry. It's just...there is something in the sky.)  
  
(Organic?)  
  
(I cannot tell. There are many of them, approaching fast.)  
  
(Do you need assistance? Jane would...)  
  
(They are ships.)  
  
(Human?)  
  
(Yes, many small ones and a few larger ones. They are... ... ...)  
  
(Brother?)  
  
(... ... ...)  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"Well Vieira, the government on this planet has caused us some REAL problems over the years, but -this- stunt takes the cake. What the hell were you thinking?!" Mayor Vieira sat back in his chair, frowning darkly at his guest.  
  
"Senator Gourache, let me assure you our intentions-"  
  
"I don't give a damn about your intentions! The Lusitania Fleet was given very strict and very specific instructions. Eliminate Lusitania. The Fleet comes back and Lusitania still stood without a scratch! Our best admiral returns to us with a twisted and obviously forged report on...ghosts and faster than light travel...its right out of a storybook!" The senator was beet red and Vieira could see a large vein throbbing on the robust man's temple.  
  
"Peter Wiggin..."  
  
"-Peter Wiggin-...", the senator seethed, "He should be put on trial. In fact, if I can gather the evidence, I will put him on trial for forcing officers into submitting ridiculous reports and for impeding the progress of the Fleet! Him and your xenobiologists. I thought we made ourselves clear when we said 'no more research'."  
  
"It was for the good of the Hundred Worlds to see if the descolada were varelse or otherwise."  
  
"Don't pull that Demosthenes crap with me. You deliberately disobeyed the ruling of the Starways Congress. We are still in session, but I can assure -you- that once we convince all the representatives of the descolada threat, this colony and wherever the descolada exist will be wiped out." Vieira sighed and shook his head. This argument had been going on for ours. He thought he was doing well and even made the senator pause, but the law wasn't on the mayor's side. The debate circled around a few times, but now the senator had the upper hand. Vieira was ready to give in for now.  
  
"And what, dear senator, do you plan on doing about the wars in the fringe worlds?" The senator glare at the mayor, eyeing him up and down for signs of a lie.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Ohm you don't know about that? I thought the Congress, in its infinite..."  
  
"Cut the crap and get on with it."  
  
"Many worlds outside the bounds of congressional law have been attacked. Entire planets wiped out and burned to ash."  
  
"How many?"  
  
"Fifteen."  
  
"Fifteen!"  
  
"The public, here at least, seem to think it was an attack from extremists or Congress on the piggies, buggers, and descolada living there. The anti-Congress citizens, the Quara followers aren't pleased. Wars are ensuing all over the Hundred Worlds."  
  
"You are harboring hostile aliens on fringe planets?!"  
  
"We'll discuss that later. If you'd like to here my suggestions on..."  
  
"No. Our conversation is over. We will finish our investigation and then this whole planet will be quarantined. You overstepped your boundaries, Vieira." Senator Gourache stormed out the door leaving Mayor Vieira sitting alone in his office.  
  
"May God help us all..."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"Nearly all the doors are locked." Jane spoke into Peter's ear.  
  
"Well, tell me which ones aren't." Jane paused for a moment.   
  
"They lead to the mess hall."  
  
"A trap?"  
  
"There's no signs of life there..."  
  
"It's our only choice." Peter led Wang-mu through the only opened doors, through the twisting hallways of the station and finally into the mess hall.  
  
Rows and rows of tables filled the hall. This station had housed a great many soldiers.  
  
All of them were dead. Bodies lined the aisles, sat still on the seats, or lay face down in their food, horribly swollen and stiff. Peter choked back the vomit, slithering up his throat. Wang-mu covered her eyes and Peter brought her closer to him. His earpiece crackled to life with a snap that made Peter yank it out. A voice came through loud enough for both Peter and Wang-mu to hear.  
  
"Oh dear, I guess cooking just isn't my thing."  
  
"You poisoned them, you bastard!" James laughed.  
  
"Oh, the poison. Well, alcohol is bad for you anyway." The cups...they were scattered everywhere, spilling their tainted contents over the bodies.  
  
"You're a monster..." Wang-mu whispered.  
  
"Am I? I'm doing no worse than humanity has done and is still doing."  
  
"This doesn't even compare..."  
  
"The Inquisition, the Holocaust, Hiroshima, the First Xenocide...please enlighten me as to how this is any different." Peter stared at the slaughter, this was just in cold blood, not a war.  
  
"Oh, but this is a war, Peter. MY war. And only I can be the winner. It's going to be quite a ride though and I hope to teach you all how pathetic and useless your race is." The smell of rot and decay set in Peter tried to get out, but the bodies surrounded him. A thousand souls screaming for justice and vengeance.  
  
"A toast, my friends! To humanity! May it enjoy its last few months of prosperity before it is devoured by my flames. Drink up!" James laughed insanely, savoring every drop of fear and confusion James and Wang-mu felt. His voice faded and a small click resounded through the dark silence. The doors were opened.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
A woman, near middle age was on board a large space shuttle. Alone it housed close to nine hundred passengers, all looking to go home after a heated discussion over the descolada. Home. She hadn't been home in years. But, she was following her dreams. She was a xenobiologist and her recent assignments had taken her away from her colony world. But now her work was finished. She could see her husband again, her mother and father...and her old love. She hadn't forgiven herself for what she put him through, even though it wasn't her fault. Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when the speakers blared to life.  
  
"Lusitania in five minutes." She was overjoyed. Five minutes from home.  
  
The ship gave a jolt and spiraled violently, knocking her from her seat.  
  
She got up from the floor, slightly bruised, her belongings and everyone else's thrown about and walked down the hallways of panicking passengers. Passed the nervous gossip and frightful ideas, she made her way to the cockpit.  
  
"Captain, what's going on?" There was no answer. An old woman sat near the doorway, sobbing.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
"What?!" She dashed into the cockpit and found the captain sprawled motionlessly across the controls. Two of the other co-pilots also laid coldly in their chairs. Three were still living and scrambled to bring the ship back on course.  
  
"What is going on?!" One of the co-pilots turned towards her with his best calm face, but fear already cracked through his cool exterior.  
  
"We're uh trying to figure that out."  
  
"Are we in danger?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Answer me."  
  
"The controls aren't working." That was it. His facade shattered and tears began to well up in his eyes. The other two co-pilots were stone silent, working at the controls, clearly frustrated that they couldn't do anything. Alarm spread across the woman's face. She turned back into the hallways and left for her room. As she passed she heard snatches of conversation. Mothers trying to make calls to their little girls at home, husband and wife clutching each other, and in that moment, the woman knew that there was no hope. It struck her like lightning. Her steps slowed, her gaze became empty, and she slowly sat back down in her seat. Turning her head out the window, she saw an unfamiliar planet. A group of bombers were dropping their deadly cargo on the it, incinerating its forests and blasting its tunnels. One of them shot at the shuttle, missed, and returned to its prior job of decimating the undeveloped planet. She watched, not in horror, but in acceptance. This is what we were doomed to. Humanity was about destruction. We were death.  
  
The shuttle turned towards the planet. In that brief turn, the woman could see that there were other shuttles, just as big if not bigger, also turned at the planet. The shuttles flied straight toward the ground.   
  
'The fuel...' she thought 'could burn everything to hell'. No tears came, she just continued to watch as they hurtled towards death. A young man, no more than twenty, nudged her. She glanced at him and his extended hand. Looking around, she saw that everyone was hugging each other, holding hands, keeping the nothingness away. Complete strangers. Faced with oblivion they find comfort in each other and enjoy it, even when nothing else mattered. How had she forgotten? Her first love took a part of her with him, unintentionally, but now she understood. In the face of adversity, humans received the only protection they ever needed from the heart.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
People don't take the time to appreciate things anymore. They don't wonder or guess or think or ask questions. But anyone gazing up at the sky from Lusitania that night would have seen a small, far-off star go out.  
  
~~~~~~~~ 


	7. The Cage is Broken

"Gentlemen, I have terrible news to offer this morning. Based on a report submitted by Senator Gourache, this Congress sent out a fleet of scouts to a number of worlds not under the our rule. We found entire planets charred and burnt to ashes. We do not know who caused this as there are any number of suspects, thanks to the reports submitted by Grego Wiggin and his accomplices. In addition, there are thousand upon thousands of rumors on the webs and in the papers that this was all our doing. These would be thanks to Ms. Quara Wiggin and her accomplices. Upon further investigation, we found over forty worlds destroyed. Just yesterday, ten mammoth-class shuttles collided with one such planet reducing it to nothingness. We have reason to believe that some of the xenobiologists on Lusitania may have been conducting their experiments on these planets. We have no choice but to consider the late Admiral Lands' report as invalid and it is to be destroyed. We will now proceed to discuss the fate of Lusitania."  
  
-Starways Congress session 09:10:34  
  
The Hive Queen reached out amongst the philotes. Her consciousness, her existence traveled along the delicate, yet crucial strands of life. And the sights she beheld horrified and even frightened her.  
  
A good number of the philotes were weakened and shook violently. One or two even snapped. She wasn't sure how, but the philotes had most definitely snapped before her eyes. She wasn't even sure if they could do this. There an almost infinite amount of philotes in the Outside, but as the Hive Queen traveled, she found fewer and fewer strands that hadn't been damaged.  
  
Curious, she followed the weakened strands in hopes of finding a cause to the destruction. On a small bluish planet, a civil war had erupted, pitting friend against friend, father against son. The war had been on for only a week at most, but she could sense such seething hatred amongst these human philotes. She backed away and traced another strand. It lead her to Pacifica. Worriedly, she followed these philotes and found that the small following that worshiped Jane as a god had fallen in on itself. Some believed Jane had gone mad and was on an unholy crusade, while the firm believers violently responded.  
  
Again and again, the Hive Queen stretched out amongst different philotes, each leading her to a scene of horror and destruction worse than the one before. But then a realization hit her. She looked amongst the philotes again and her fear was confirmed. The Hundred Worlds were in a state of war. The damaged philotes created a dark but powerful web of oblivion amongst the sentient life in the human legacy. A philote would shake violently when an act of senseless destruction occurred, and the Hive Queen had seen many such acts already. The vibration would attack other connected philotes and so on and so on until the tremor finally weakened and gave out.  
  
If all these philotes snapped.... The thought was too impossible to believe. But still.... She watched a while longer until she noticed that the web had a center. Something was at the heart of the dark web, giving off its own tremors though no planet nor any life at all occupied its space. She stretched her consciousness to it.  
  
It attacked her. The moment she reached it, it extended its influence and thought at her. And she felt amazing pain. It was if a thousand needles struck at her soul. The dark thing's power extended yet again and the Hive Queen was forced to recoil as the pain intensified. The dark thing did not want it interfering and it lashed out again, trying to sever her connection with the philotes. She was not pleased by this turn of events and tried to lash out with her own thoughts.   
  
She soon learned that was a mistake. The dark thing did not recoil, but rather absorbed the Hive Queen and filled her thoughts with ideas of destruction and war and blood...and humanity. She darted away as fast as she could, her mind swimming with an icy chill. She drew herself back into her body and meditated.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The smell of incense overpowered the small bedroom. The door was shut and lockedm the curtains drawn closed. The center of the room held the burning incense holder. In the corner, Bishop Gregorio turned his terminal off, the low murmur of the machine disappeared, and all was silent. As the room slowly filled with smoke, he wiped his tearing eyes and immediately stopped. 'Suffering is a part of the prayer...'. He lowered his hands to his side and knelt before the bowl of incense. 'Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.' The Bishop waited a few moments and heard a very distant, very faint humming. He shut his eyes tightly, avoiding the temptation to interrupt his ritual.  
  
"Bishop Gregorio..." The Bishop nearly let out a yell in surprise.  
  
"Lord?"  
  
"My child..."  
  
"Oh, my Savior! You've come to me!" He threw himself to the floor, weeping in awe.  
  
"Rise, my son."  
  
"What would you ask of me, Lord?"  
  
"The end times are coming." The Bishop hesitated.  
  
"The Apocalypse?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But how? The signs..."  
  
"The signs are all in place. These are dark times, the darkest in humanity's history. The seals are being opened, the trumpets sound."  
  
"Is it so, my Lord?"  
  
"Do you doubt me?"  
  
"No! No, my Lord, but the heavens! It is foretold that a third of the stars will.... My God.... All those planets that were attacked! It's exactly as it is written in the book of Revelation!"  
  
"Indeed, loyal follower. The Anti-Christ has made himself known."  
  
"Peter Wiggins..."  
  
"The Beast has manifested itself."  
  
"The dragon?"  
  
"Yes. The Starways Congress. For too long has it fed on you people, my worshipers. For too long has it spread its lies and oppression. It has become fat and decadent. Now it seeks to devour the descendants of the righteous. It will not come to pass."  
  
"Of course not, my Lord. But what shall I do?"  
  
"The Lusitania Fleet will return to eliminate this colony."  
  
"The Congress has decided this already?"  
  
"No, that has yet to pass. I will make it so. However, you will be as the angel Michael and slay the Serpent of Old." Bishop Gregario drew in a sharp breath. This was his dream. This was his chance to prove his righteousness. Filled with pride and eagerness, he was held speechless before the Lord. "I will make open the way to the Beast. From there, you will be on your own. Now listen carefully. This is what you must do."  
  
The Bishop knelt before the Lord and took in his every word. He knew what he must do. He would lead the charge in the battle between Heaven and Hell and cast the Beast from the mortal plane. He would be a soldier in the army of God. When the Lord finished and departed, the Bishop got up and rushed from his bedroom to make preparations for the final battle. This would be the ultimate test of his faith and he would not fail. The Beast would tremble before the glorious light of heaven and the wicked would cower as their blasphemous leader fell to Bishop Gregario. The end of days had begun.  
  
As the Bishop left the room and shut the door, the terminal in the corner of the room erased the messages it typed on the screen, turned off the speakers, and shut itself off. 


End file.
